


Tiffany's

by edelau



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AUTHOR: Sara Seven, F/M, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8206093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edelau/pseuds/edelau
Summary: When Ron enters Tiffany's to choose a ring for Hermione, he comes across the last person he'd have expected to see buying an engagement ring: Draco Malfoy. But who on Earth would be willing to put up with him for more than five minutes? Even worse, who would want to date him?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A translation of [Tiffany's](http://www.slasheaven.com/viewstory.php?sid=39838) by [Sara Seven](http://www.slasheaven.com/viewuser.php?uid=27970).
> 
> Work based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No offense is meant by this.
> 
> Thank you to [capitu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitu/pseuds/capitu), [Faded Into The Dawn](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4815835/Faded-Into-The-Dawn), [Iwao](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwao) & [Sevfan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevfan/pseuds/Sevfan) for the proofreading. Any mistakes still there are mine.

Tiffany & Co. is what it said on the sign of the world-famous jeweller’s. Although to Ronald Weasley it was only the jewellery shop where Hermione had stood with a yearning shine in her eyes. He hesitated only for a few seconds before going in—just enough to look at his reflection in one of the shop windows and to smarten his red hair with one hand. It was too long already, he would have to cut it.

It was a four-storey building situated in Old Bond Street—black and sober, yet elegant. The windows were made of wood and painted white, and between the first and the second floor, the name of the shop was written in gold letters, as was also on the two green flags waving in the light breeze blowing that day. The shop was on the ground floor and its window display attracted everybody's gaze—or at least the female ones who, enchanted, dragged their partners to see them, where the beautiful and sparkling jewels and gems set into fine rings or earrings that were displayed there, seemed to exert a strange magic over them that Ron was still not able to understand. But the redhead wasn't so stupid as to not know what those girls were thinking.

Ron had been mulling over the idea for several weeks and he was sure he was right. Hermione and he had been together for almost ten years—fights aside, since they always ended up reconciling. The first years after the war had been very difficult. Not only Fred, many others had also been lost, but they had struggled to move on and had not given up. Everybody had done their part and the Wizarding world had managed to heal again. Hermione had started working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and after years of hard work she had obtained the post in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that she had so longed for. Ron, for his part had left his childhood dream of being an Auror behind and associated with his brother George. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was generating significant profits—they wouldn't be the next Malfoy, but it did allow him to buy Hermione a ring in that jewellery shop.

Ron looked once more at the window display. A necklace and some white gold earrings set with black diamonds were showcased. They were pear-shaped and very beautiful, but he wasn't looking for earrings. He wanted a ring, so he walked into the store determined to buy it.

The interior exuded luxury and elegance, and Ron could not help but feel out of place. He had been brought up with half a dozen siblings and there was never enough money to allow them to spend on trifles. When you need to eat, you can’t substitute meat for cold metal, so he was used to the simplicity, and all of that... overwhelmed him. Windows and more windows displayed jewels by the thousands: necklaces and bracelets, rings, earrings, bangles... all of precious metals and decorated with diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, pearls, topazes, and many other gemstones the names of which he didn't know.

At the back of the store there was a door behind a counter which should connect to the backroom. Standing there, with his back to the shop, there was a tall, very blond man. He was svelte and dressed in a suit. He was chatting with a shop assistant who was shorter and bald and also wearing a suit. Ron, still feeling out of place, walked toward them. His footsteps echoed in the white marble, but neither of them seemed to notice his presence. He approached the blond man, stopping a few feet behind him, and he got to hear the end of their conversation.

"...come to pick up the rings that I ordered two weeks ago. I hope they are ready." The voice, with its very refined, upper-class accent, couldn't help reminding Ron of someone.

The clerk smiled at the blond man.

"Oh, of course! They turned out magnificent. If you excuse me a moment, Mr. Malfoy, I'll go and pick them up," he said and disappeared into the backroom.

Ron's eyes widened in surprise and for a moment he was unable to say anything coherent, until soon after he managed to stutter, still in shock: "Ma-Malfoy?"

The blond man turned around and Ron recognised him. They hadn't seen each other in a long time, but it was him. Without a doubt. That pointy face that he had to look at every day for almost seven years wasn't something he could forget easily, no matter how much time elapsed. Malfoy's lips curled into a sneer when he recognised him and he looked him up and down, disdain shining in his eyes, as if it was a crime to enter that jeweller’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"Weasley?" The tone in his voice bordered on disbelief, but the old hatred was still there, hidden. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here, Malfoy?" Ron replied with the same nasty tone, imbued with the ancestral hatred that they had always professed, as if they still were in school and they were twelve or thirteen years old rather than twenty-seven. "I came to buy breakfast, what the fuck do you think!” he snorted.

When it was clear the redhead was not willing to say anything else, Malfoy turned around again, ignoring him. Ron stuck out his tongue in a completely childish gesture, thinking how strange it was that Malfoy had no desire to quarrel. He barely remembered the last time he got cross and insulted the Slytherin. It had been more than four years earlier, during a Quidditch game. The Chudley Cannons had played against the Falmouth Falcons and had lost by an embarrassing 70-310. Their loss was nothing new. However, Malfoy, who was right in the back row, had said a couple of comments too loudly about the Seeker's reflexes and the poor marksmanship of the Chasers, and before noticing it, Harry—who luckily for Ron had accompanied him that day—was separating and yelling at them to stop behaving like kids. Surprisingly, Malfoy had paid him heed, and Ron had obeyed his friend reluctantly, not to mention that he was now an Auror and could arrest them.

"What are you doing here?" the Gryffindor said suddenly, as if inspired. Malfoy had always been a prejudiced pureblood who loathed Muggles and everything associated with them... For Merlin's sake, if he couldn't even pronounce the word 'television' properly at Hogwarts! And the redhead could see no reason why he might have changed his way of thinking. So he specified: "In Muggle London."

Malfoy glared at him.

"People change, Weasley. Mature and all. You should try it," Malfoy said slyly. Ron felt his blood boil, like in the old days. Suddenly it was as if no time had passed. However, as much as he would like to, he could not throw a Crucio. The screams would alert the shop assistant. Besides, it was illegal.

"Well, I don't think you've changed at all," Ron snapped, trying not to rise his voice too much. "You still are the same disgusting, elitist prick that you were at Hogwarts. I'd sooner believe Crumple-Horned Snorkacks exist than that someone would be willing to stand you for more than five seconds. Aside from your parents, of course. And that someone would ever consider dating you or telling you 'I do' without being under the Imperius is something I'll never understand."

Malfoy's lips curled into a smirk.

"I keep wondering what he saw in you..." the blond said.

"Who?" Ron asked. He would curse him, if he started to mess with Hermione. Regardless of the shop assistant and of Magical Law. "Hermione?"

Malfoy shook his head with a smile on his lips, a mix of superiority and mystery.

"No, not Granger..." he started, but his voice died instantly when the salesman came through the door with a small black box and the smile of someone who knows that he's going to collect a handful of pounds in a matter of seconds.

"I hope you enjoy them, Mr. Malfoy. These rings have been crafted especially for you. They are unique, and if you allow me to say, two masterpieces," the bald man said. His double chin quivering with excitement as he spoke. His stubby-fingered hands placed the box in front of Malfoy and opened it. In it there were two beautiful white gold rings. Both of them were identical except for one small detail. The ring on the right had embedded a small flat emerald, and the one on the left, a ruby. Ron was astonished, telling himself he wanted one like that for Hermione.

"They are perfect, thank you," Malfoy said. Now there was no longer any trace of hatred in his voice, and looked longingly at the rings, nervous, as if... as if he were already kneeling in front of the one he was going to propose to. And for a moment, Ron could relate to him. Then the Slytherin made as if to take the case, but the clerk pulled it out of his reach smartly.

"Are you sure you don't want any inscription?" the man asked with a broad, inane smile on his lips.

"No," Malfoy claimed, and judging by his tone of voice, Ron would have sworn it wasn't the first time he’d been asked.

"Really?" the man insisted, not losing the teleshopping- vendor smile. "See, women love those kind of things. I'm sure your girlfriend would be even more delighted if the ring was engraved with a message..."

"There's no need," Malfoy repeated, and with a quick movement he took the rings box. "Oh, by the way," he added nonchalantly, "I have a boyfriend, not a girlfriend," he clarified in an off-handed way.

Ron raised an eyebrow, surprised. It didn't bother him that Malfoy, or anybody else, was gay. In the Wizarding world it was something completely normal. His father went out with a few guys before dating his mother, his brother Charlie brought his partners for dinner often, and they weren't always girls, and Harry was gay and had been dating a guy for five or six years now, although he hadn't deigned to introduce him to anyone. For Ron, as for the rest of the Wizarding world, homosexuality was something completely normal, never assigned more importance than hair colour. So that's why he was still surprised that there was people—Muggles, of course—that didn't think like this, that believed that it was something unnatural, that looked at them with disgust and contempt and insulted them, as if they were demons from hell that would try to drag them to the dark side. According to what Harry or Hermione had told him on occasion, the most radical—and the most idiotic, by the way—blame them for all the world's problems, from crises to global warming. And did their best to fuck them over. For example, Ron was stunned when he was told that in many countries they couldn't get married or that loving someone of the same sex was illegal. What was that bullshit? Since when governments could decide on those things, add rules to love? The only requirement established by Ministries of Magic around the world when marrying a couple was that the two spouses were human, but Muggles didn't think so. It was as if love had rules and they were ignoring them, going against nature. People like these made Ron sick. Why did they care so much who people fuck if that someone was happy?

Unfortunately, it soon became clear that the clerk didn't share the redhead's opinion. The white-teeth smile that had been etched into his face until then, waned and disappeared with astonishing speed, and the muscles of his face twitched into a clear grimace of displeasure, disgust, hatred. When he spoke, his voice had no longer trace of the obsequiousness it had sported up to that point.

"Oh, I see," were his only words, cold and impersonal. However, without a doubt the ones that he left unspoken but shone behind his eyes—words of disapproval, loathing and disgust, were the ones that Malfoy seemed to hear, even though the blond’s demeanour didn’t reveal his thoughts.

"If you excuse me, I have better things to do," the Slytherin replied in the same tone, but the hatred oozing from his eyes had now a target other than Ron. And without another word he turned and started walking briskly toward the door. He hadn't taken more than a few steps when the bald man’s voice stopped him cold.

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy..." The Slytherin turned around with a grave expression. "I would thank you not to return here."

Even though his face didn't reflect his intentions, to Ron’s alarm, he noticed Malfoy sliding his hand into one of his pockets. And he knew that the Slytherin’s fingers were clutched around his wand and it was a matter of seconds that he'd hurl a spell.

"Don't even think about it, Malfoy," Ron alerted him instinctively.

Malfoy stared at him for several seconds, until he finally seemed to react and pulled his hand away from his pocket, empty.

"And what would you like?" the clerk asked again.

Ron turned around when he realised he was being addressed and glared back furiously. Who the fuck this bloke thought he was to speak that way to a costumer, even if it was Malfoy?

"I want," Ron said as he pointed at Malfoy with his finger, "you to apologise to Mr. Malfoy if you don't want me to report you. You are nothing more than a salesman, that's your job. Whoever your customers love or sleep with is none of your business."

The man clenched his jaw, but he gave no sign of being willing to apologise. Ron wanted to punch him. Had he hated Draco Malfoy for being a posh racist and a deceiving snake he could understand it, he could even condone it, but hating him for being gay, that was not on. If Ron hated the Slytherin’s personality, it was because he had chosen to be that way. But being gay wasn't a choice, and it wasn't a bad thing either. It was fine. Today it had been the blond, but what if it had been his brother Charlie, or Harry? He would have supported them and therefore, even if it was Malfoy and he hated being in the same room with him, on this matter he was on Malfoy’s side.

"Malfoy," Ron barked after a few minutes when he saw that the man wasn't willing to give in, "you wouldn't know of another jeweller’s around here, would you?" Malfoy nodded and Ron turned around, facing the bald man. Then he pointed a threatening finger at the salesman and declared: "Know that you've just lost more than a customer, sir."

And he left the store without waiting for his response. On the way, the soft footsteps of loafers told him that Malfoy followed him. Ron couldn't help to release a sigh of both frustration and relief as he left the store. He was still angry, and on top of that, he still didn't have the ring for Hermione.

"You didn't have to do that, Weasley."

Ron looked up, surprised to hear Malfoy's voice.

"Don't be an idiot, Malfoy. At school I hated you because you were a future project of a Death Eater, not because of your sexual orientation. And even if I still hate you, it doesn't mean I won't defend you if someone insults you for something I know is wrong if I want to," he tried to explain.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Gryffindors..." he scoffed. "You always have to do what's right, don't you?" Ron shrugged and Malfoy began to rummage in his pockets until he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. Then he scribbled something and handed it to Ron. "Take it, it's the address of a jeweller’s from whom the Malfoy family have commissioned their jewellery for generations."

Was he imagining things or was Draco Malfoy being nice? Perhaps the new Peruvian Darkness Powder had some side effects after all and caused hallucinations or something... because otherwise he didn't understand why Malfoy would treat him well and give him that address. Ron hesitated a few seconds, but he finally took the paper handed by the blond.

"And why didn't you go there?"

Now it was the Slytherin who hesitated before answering. Ron could see Malfoy was debating whether or not to tell him, or if it actually was any of his business.

"My father and Rodrick are good friends and if I had commissioned the rings there, he would have told him right away."

"And that's a problem because...?" the redhead prompted, not sure that Malfoy would welcome enthusiastically that he was so... nosy. Furthermore, considering that they didn't get along at all... he didn't understand why Malfoy was being so friendly with him. It wasn't Christmas or anything ... Had the Slytherin hit his head? Maybe a potion had gone wrong? Had someone cursed him and now he had to be nice to people he couldn't stand before?

"Because my father still hopes I’ll reconsider and settle down with someone more... appropriate," he said with a tired smile on his lips.

Ron was curious, and since the Slytherin didn’t seem inclined to start a fight, he decided to take advantage and risk with the next question: "Are you seeing a Muggle or anything like that?"

Malfoy gave a short laugh and shook his head. "Something like that. Half-blood." An amused smile curved his lips and then he said sarcastically: "And on top of that, a Gryffindor."

If Ron had had something in his mouth he would have choked on it. Okay, that was already bordering on the surreal. Malfoy dating a Muggle or a half-blood would be overlooked, considering that, apparently, Malfoy had matured and no longer shared the ideals of Blood Purity and the such, but... dating a Gryffindor? Merlin, but Ron had always thought that he must be allergic to them at the very least! And now he was going to ask one to marry him! Fate had a funny sense of humour. Not to mention that Severus Snape would be turning in his grave, ha! That would definitely be worth seeing. Or Lucius Malfoy's face... that he would also pay to see, without a doubt.

But... Which Gryffindor was crazy enough—that is to say, more than normal; the craziness was already an indispensable quality to be a lion—to go out with none other than Draco Malfoy? Who, keeping in mind that the Slytherin had made their lives miserable and had given them hell equally? He would have to be pretty desperate. Or pretty blind. Or very much... in love. But was that possible? A Gryffindor in love with a Malfoy?

"Damn! It must be true that you have changed, then," Ron said sarcastically. "I don't remember the last time you called me a weasel. How long has it been?" he prodded.

Malfoy smiled wryly.

"Look, Weasley, you and I are doomed to get along, or at least try it, believe me," he said with a sigh that seemed defeated. "But it will be easier if you don't make me say too much, I'm already making a big effort."

Ron frowned. What the fuck was he talking about now?

"I don't understand."

Malfoy shrugged and curled his lips into a reluctant smile.

"I figured as much." Then he pointed the piece of paper he had given him. "Trust me. Go and buy Granger a pretty ring. When you have your own redhead Quidditch team, you'll thank me."

And before Ron could say anything else he turned and walked away down the street. And if the Gryffindor had stopped to listen instead of being lost in thought, he would have seen Malfoy make a call and what he was telling the person at the receiving end of the call.

"Harry James Potter, you owe me the best blowjob ever. What do you mean why? Because I've just crossed paths with Weasley... Yes, yes, we are both still alive and in good health... Know that I've been nice and that I've treated him well, as you made me promise... So now I want my reward!

Her fiancé had been trying to fire-call Harry for five minutes, but with Hermione hanging from his neck, kissing him and smothering him in a bear hug, it was an almost impossible task. He picked up a handful of Floo powder for the fourth time, and stuck his head into the fireplace. She wouldn’t stop covering his face with kisses and whispering 'I love you' in his ear, stopping every few seconds to admire the ring now adorning her finger; but despite that, and Merlin knows how, Ron was able to utter the address for Harry's apartment.

After the war, Harry had moved in with them for a while, at Molly's insistence more than for any other reason. Grimmauld Place held too many memories for the brunet, and after leaving the Burrow, he had moved into a small but cosy flat in London’s Soho. The flat was pretty good. Ron and Hermione had lunch with him once a week, and except for the mess that could be expected of someone like Harry, everything else was fairly presentable. Even the furniture had been selected with extraordinary taste, which no one had expected, although the merit might not be Harry's, because their friend wasn't living alone. He was sharing the flat with the man he'd been dating for several years, though Ron and Hermione hadn't met him yet. He was always working, or he had gone shopping, or out with his friends, or meeting his parents... or had any other number of life or death commitments. They didn't even have a name; and it wasn’t for lack of trying on Ginny's, Molly's and her part. But in spite of their friend's reservations, he seemed very happy and sometimes there was even a love bite hidden under the collar of his shirt, so the couple must be doing pretty well.

Harry's sitting room appeared as the green flames died down. The room was spacious, decorated in light colours. The sofas were white and the curtains a light ochre. There was no-one in the room, but a few clothes scattered on the parquet floor shed some light on what the brunet could be doing at that moment in another part of the house. Despite that, Ron seemed to miss it, and he called him.

"Harry! Are you home?"

Just as Hermione began to think their friend wasn't there they heard hurried footsteps, and seconds later Harry turned up with a huge smile on his lips, his trousers unbuttoned and putting on a T-shirt that was inside out.

"Yes?" their friend asked when he reached the fireplace almost breathlessly.

"Err... did we catch you at a bad time?" Hermione asked, amused.

Harry blushed.

"No, no, don't worry... Did anything happen?"

Ron shook his head quickly.

"More or less, but it's good news. Can we come through?"

Their friend turned his head and glanced quickly toward the hallway to his room and then nodded slightly.

Moments later, Ron and Hermione were sitting in Harry's living room.

"Well?" the brunet asked raising an eyebrow.

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione, unable to keep the news any longer, beat him to it and shouted elated, "We are getting married!"

"Oh, Hermione, that's great!" Harry said, hugging her and twirling her around the room. After a while he let her down and went toward Ron. "And you... it was about time..." he said, outstretching his left hand, where Hermione swore she saw a green flash.

Ron shrugged and laughed.

"Well, better late than nev-" her fiancé started, but then his eyes settled on Harry's hand and Hermione looked there too. On the fourth finger of their friend's hand there was a white gold ring with a small flat emerald. "You sonofabitch-" he said almost inaudibly. Then Ron fixed reproachful blue eyes on Harry's, who judging by his expression, had understood what Ron meant.

For the first time in her life—and hopefully the last—Hermione didn't know what these two were talking about. And it wasn't a situation that made her feel comfortable... But she bit her tongue and silently listened the whispered conversation Harry and Ron were having through their clenched teeth.

"You have to be kidding, Harry. Him? Of all the gay guys in the world it had to be him?" Ron asked sceptically.

Harry crossed his arms and frowned.

"Yes, Ron. Him. Is that a problem?" the brunet asked, clenching his teeth as Hermione wondered if it was too much to ask for them to use names in the conversation and stop using pronouns.

Ron hesitated for a few seconds before answering.

"I don't know. Maybe. Why him?"

More pronouns! Shit! Was it so hard?

"Because I love him," Harry answered. Hermione was about to ask who they were talking about, but she stopped just in time. Was it too much to ask for a simple name? Merlin, it was frustrating!

"You love him?" Ron asked sceptically. "But how- but you- Merlin, Harry, you two spent seven bloody years fighting day and night! Have you forgotten that?"

Harry's lips curled into a cynical smile.

"And you and Hermione didn't?"

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it. A few seconds later he opened it again to protest.

"That's different! You can't compare. You even tried to have as many fights as possible before breakfast! And Hermione and I have never tried to kill each other!"

Hermione's eyes opened wide. Was it possible? Could they be talking about... him?

"Yeah, well, Ron... that's called Unresolved Sexual Tension."

"Bullshit!" Ron snapped. "That was hatred and the rest is bollocks!"

"Fine, well I don't hate him anymore!" Harry yelled. "Is that so hard to understand?!"

"Yes!" Ron bellowed as well. He then stopped, and shook his head slightly. "Shit, Harry... No, it's not that... I just... Fuck! Why didn't you tell us before?"

Harry blushed and began babbling incoherently.

"Because he didn't know how to tell you. Because he thought, and I can see he was right, that you wouldn't take it very well. Because you are the only family he has and he was afraid you'd reject him... Do you want me to continue, Weasley?" said a voice oozing sarcasm. All three turned and saw Draco Malfoy with his arms crossed and leaning against the wall. He was dressed in a suit, but the jacket was missing, his shirt was untucked and his tie was loose.

Despite the surprise, a little voice somewhere in Hermione's mind cried softly 'I knew it', to which she couldn't pay all the attention she would had wanted because she was focused on the person approaching their friend and wrapping one arm around his waist.

"But..." Ron started, looking stunned at Malfoy. Then he seemed to reconsider and looked at Harry. "Are you stupid or what?!" he shouted him. "Why would you think that?"

Harry crossed his arms with a serious expression.

"Do you remember when years ago I started working as an Auror in the Ministry? Do you remember that I told you that I often bumped into Draco and that now he was a good guy and I liked him?" he said with a slight tinge of bitterness in his voice. "You almost forced me to go to St. Mungo's, Ron," Harry snorted.

"If you'd told me you were dating him-" Ron began.

"The thing is, I wasn't dating him then," Harry cut him off. "But, when I asked him out and Draco agreed, I didn't tell you because I already had an idea of what your reaction would be.

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. 'Men...' she thought. She could remember perfectly what Harry was talking about. As she also worked in the Ministry she often ran into the Slytherin, and she knew that their friend was right. Malfoy had matured. When he got the job in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she began to interact with him frequently on financial affairs, she found that he was a meticulous and organised man, very efficient in his work. Calm, he didn't tend to get flustered even when a million-Galleon deal threatened to fall through. Through some of her gossipy colleagues she had learned that he was gay, and his constant rejecting of Matt, Hermione’s secretary, as well as the "I have a boyfriend, Matt, stop insisting" that she had heard him say one day when walking nearby, made the office snoopers insist on matching him up with a different man every week. But indeed none of them had considered Harry as a possible candidate.

Truth be told, she didn't mind that Harry was dating Malfoy. But it was... weird. After watching them fight at school for years, nobody on learning they were a couple would have bet two Knuts on them lasting. Although no one would have given a Knut for the Cannons last year and yet they had ended up winning the league... Life is full of surprises, and if Malfoy was responsible for that daft, love-struck smile she sometimes saw on Harry's face... there's no way she would object. You only had to see the devotion with which he looked at their friend to know the Slytherin was also a man in love. Head over heels, in fact.

Ron's voice brought her back to reality.

"So, what was the plan? Simply send the wedding invitations and just hope no one had a heart attack when they read them?"

Hermione knew her fiancé. She knew he was more hurt than angry about Harry and Malfoy. Because their best friend hadn't trusted him enough to tell him, and Harry was like a brother to him. It could be that Ron felt a little bit betrayed because of the grudge he still held for Malfoy since Hogwarts, but it was something he would have to let go of or learn to live with. After all, Hermione was sure Harry was the only reason Malfoy didn't call her boyfriend Weasel when they crossed paths in Diagon Alley.

Harry blushed and looked down, embarrassed.

"The truth... is that I’ve wanted to tell you for a while... But I didn't know how, and every time you came here for lunch, Draco asked if I wanted him to stay... but I always said no and found an excuse to postpone it."

"Well, Harry," Hermione said, trying to cheer him up. "You can't postpone it any longer now."

Harry smiled shyly.

"Does anyone else know about you two, besides us?" Hermione asked, trying to steer the conversation.

"My parents," Malfoy said casually. "No one else."

Hermione’s eyes widened. She had thought that if anyone else knew about them, it'd be one of Malfoy's closest friends. Parkinson or Zabini... but not his parents. Not when Lucius Malfoy and Harry had always got on so... ‘well.’

Malfoy must have guessed what she was thinking by the look on her face, because he let out a small laugh and said, "My father was very set about me finding a girlfriend, getting married and having children..." He shrugged. "So I told him I was gay, I had a boyfriend and he was Harry."

"And..." Ron said, asking what Hermione was thinking, "didn't he try to kill you or something?"

Malfoy smirked.

"I'm not such an idiot, Weasley. I made sure that he didn't have his wand at hand. Although," he added seconds later, "just in case, I told Harry not to eat anything he hadn’t seen prepared for a couple of weeks."

Ron nodded, frowning and thinking Merlin knows what.

"So..." her fiancé began uncertainly, "this morning, when you said you and I were doomed to get along..."

"Just so you know, it's because someone blackmails me with withholding sex if I don't behave myself around you..." Malfoy said, smiling and kissing Harry quickly on the cheek.

"Sorry," Harry said, blushing to the tip of his ears, "but at the Quidditch match between the Falcons and the Cannons, you both would have ended up in St. Mungo's if I hadn't-"

"It's not my fault if the Cannons' Seeker is blind as a bat," Malfoy interrupted him. "Merlin, Harry, even Trelawney without her glasses would have seen that Snitch..."

Then, to Hermione's despair they began to talk about Quidditch. She snorted but no one seemed to hear her so she sat on the settee, listening to Ron telling Malfoy how that "blind as bat" Seeker won them the league last season. After she felt were hours later, she decided they had talked enough Quidditch, so she cut off their conversation pointing out Harry's inside-out shirt. Harry disappeared into his bedroom to dress properly. Malfoy looked at his watch. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Hermione glanced at her watch too, when she saw the time, she got up and rushed to shake her head. "What? No. We don't want to bother..."

"Don't worry," Harry said walking back into the room as he finished pulling his t-shirt properly, "it's no trouble. We usually order takeaway, unless Draco does the cooking."

Malfoy looked at him amused. "Ever since he asked me how much salt to add to the rice and if he had to wash it before cooking it, I don't let him near the kitchen," he said laughing, and even Hermione couldn't help to laugh a little.

"But..." Ron said, looking as if something didn't fit, "when we come to have lunch with you... The grilled salmon?"

"Mine," Malfoy said.

"And the risotto with..." her fiancé asked again incredulously.

"Mine too," Malfoy laughed.

"And the chocolate cake?" he asked almost desperately.

"That's from a patisserie nearby, but the almond cakes that Harry brings you on Christmas are mine too."

Hermione had to make a great effort not to laugh at her fiancé's face; while Ron might still not like Malfoy, his stomach certainly did.

They ordered Italian food from a restaurant a couple of blocks from Harry's flat and all of them sat at the table to enjoy a meal that consisted almost entirely of pasta _a lá_ bolognese, parmesan or any other sauce. The conversation was a little tense at first, specially since Ron seemed somewhat uncomfortable. But an excellent Tuscan wine helped to break the ice and ease the tension in both her fiancé and Harry and Draco. And it was like this that they learned how long exactly Harry and Malfoy had been together, or that before Harry asked Malfoy out officially he had caught Draco a few times staring at his arse, and with the encouragement of several conversations loaded with innuendo from both their parts, Harry finally plucked up the courage to ask him to have dinner. They also learned, though that was only when Harry went to the kitchen to get dessert, that in that first date their dinner had been scarce, hurried and rushed. But Malfoy had to leave the reason for their haste to their imagination because Harry came back with their pudding.

Then, as they were having coffee, Harry cleared his throat and said: "Er..." Both Ron and Hermione, looked up, waiting for their friend—who for some reason looked nervous-to speak. "On Sunday you know that we are having lunch at the Burrow, and well... I was thinking of... bringing Draco... If your mother doesn't see the ring before and tries to wheedle-"

"Of course, Harry!" Hermione replied excitedly, guessing what their friend was about to ask.

"What? Do you want us to mentally prepare them or something?" Ron asked.

"No!" he exclaimed, horrified. "I'd just like you to be there and support me if need be."

Ron smiled at Harry knowingly. "You want me to hold my sister if she tries to strangle Malfoy, right? Don't worry, it's no problem." Then he looked at Malfoy and said in a confidential tone: "My sister has always hoped to get back with Harry, marry him and let him name their kids Dobby Hedwig or some such rot."

Hermione saw out of the corner of her eye how Harry—with an excited gleam in his eye—opened his mouth to say something, but Malfoy beat him to it, threatening him: "Attempt to suggest such a name for our child, Potter, and I will personally make sure you can't produce offspring."

Harry lowered his head and pouted. "I wasn't going to suggest Dobby Hedwig as a name, but thanks," he replied sarcastically.

"I won’t let you name the poor kid Rubeus Remus either, if that's what you were thinking..." Malfoy warned him, arching an eyebrow.

"Rubeus Remus sounds stupid, darling..." he said, lowering his voice. "I... was thinking names like James Sirius, Albus Severus... or Lily Luna if it's a girl."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and then looked at his partner in complete disbelief.

"For Merlin's sake... Weasley, Granger... tell me I heard wrong..."

"What would you name them then?" Harry asked, offended.

"Following the Black tradition, the name of a constellation..."

Harry raised both eyebrows quizzically.

"Oh, really? Which one?"

"Scorpius Hyperion is nice..." Malfoy said in an almost-whisper.

As Harry burst out saying he wouldn't allow such a name for his child either and a small fight ensued, Hermione noticed Ron patting her softly on her shoulder.

"Quick, Herm," he whispered. "What would you name our child?"

She didn't have to think about it. Sometimes, she had talked about it with the other Gryffindor girls, and she was clear about a couple of names.

"If it's a girl, I think I'd call her Rose, why?" she answered in the same tone.

"I like Hugo for a boy, what do you think?" She nodded and Ron held out a hand. Hermione held it tight. "So Rose and Hugo, right?"

Hermione nodded again as she looked sideways at Harry and Malfoy. At the moment they seemed to be reaching an understanding, deciding that when it was time to choose the names they'd toss for it.

"You know what?" Ron whispered again with a small smile on his lips. "I'm glad that even though they're not trying to kill each other, they still argue as much as ever. If they didn't, I'd definitely start worrying."

Hermione gave him a quick kiss and smiled back.

"More or less like us, right?" she said, amused. "After all, the good thing about fighting is making up." And she couldn't avoid glancing sideways at Harry and Malfoy, who were in the midst of a reconciliation.

Harry and Draco celebrated their wedding a month after Ron and Hermione's. They asked Ron to be their best man, and her now husband took charge of the toast, where he said to all the guests that neither he nor anyone would have bet a single Knut on the couple any more than on the Cannons, who eventually and against all odds, had won the league.

The Chudley Cannons won the league for seven years in a row. The first year they lost the league again, the couple's first child was born with the help of a surrogate mother, and a Galleon tossing allowed Harry to choose the name. A couple of years later, Albus and Scorpius joined little James, and a few years after that, came Lily. And thank goodness they stopped at four, otherwise Hermione could already see them naming another child something like Alastor Colin, Rubeus Remus or something equally appalling.

The End


End file.
